


but it's not enough

by AyraBelle



Series: You Were the Perfect Storm [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Gen, Keith just wants to read, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and ignore everything else, lots of bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyraBelle/pseuds/AyraBelle
Summary: pro·jec·tionnounthe presentation or promotion of someone or something in a particular way; the transfer of one's own desires or emotions to another person.This is definitely not what I was planning to be next for this series, but my depression has been pulling me down hard recently so this is what I wrote.I has atumblr.





	

It wasn’t that Keith was antisocial. He really wasn’t. But he never knew what to say to other people so he simply didn’t say anything. And then faded to the background and was either ignored or forgotten.

He was used to it by now.

**7 years, 290 days**

The first time two of his classmates discovered that they were soulmates, the entire class had gathered around the duo to see their soul-tats. People generally got their first soul-tats after they turned ten, so it was a new thing for all of the students. There was lots of poking and commenting, but Keith held back. He wondered what it would be like to have a soulmate. The people he grew close to always left him alone after all, so he had no reason to suspect that a soulmate would be any different.

**7 years, 289 days through 6 years, 148 days**

As more and more peers started discovering their platonic soulmates, Keith continued to get shunted to the side. He had yet to gain a soul-tat, and he told himself that he didn’t care. The time he didn’t spend with friends or family just gave him more time to read. He tended to spend all of his free time at whatever public library was closest, only returning to his foster homes right before curfew. He found friends in between the pages and despised going to school with every fiber of his being. The bullies tended not to listen to him speaking, so he had taken to using his fists to respond to them. It may not be what his social worker or the teachers or his foster families would prefer, but it did get his point across.

Besides, he didn’t care about getting detention. He knew that he would just be shifted to a new family and a new school soon, he was always being sent away so it didn’t matter what these teachers thought of him.

**6 years, 147 days**

His first day of seventh grade was no different. In Literature Arts, his teacher introduced herself with a smile (and Keith promptly forgot her name) before she asked one question.

“Is there anyone here that doesn’t have a soul-tat?”

Keith was sitting in the back corner, so he could see that he was the only one to raise his hand. The teacher blinked at him in surprise, which caused the rest of the class to look at him as well. He stared at a spot above the teacher’s head, not wanting to look at anyone.

“Oh, well I suppose you’re excluded from this assignment then, Mr Park. Everyone else, I want you to write me a story about the time you met your first soulmate. I want to feel like I’m there. This will give me the chance to assess your writing styles and get to know a little more about you.”

From there she moved on and Keith understood that she didn’t care to get to know him – she didn’t want anything of his.

**6 years, 32 days**

Christmas Day. Santa Claus didn’t come to group homes, so it might as well have been any other day of the year. Keith only knew that it was a holiday because he didn’t have school and the library was closed. He’d finished his book the night before, so he was debating whether or not he liked it enough to warrant a rereading when there was a commotion downstairs. Following the noise, Keith was surprised to discover that there was a social worker there with a box of presents. The other kids were already crowding around the toys, so Keith hung towards the back and waited for there to be an opening in the throng. As he waited, he saw a book that was being ignored by the other kids fall off the pile and slide towards him. Taking it as a sign from Fate, he grabbed the book and retreated to his bed before the rest of the kids had finished fighting over who got what.

When he sat on his bed, Keith looked at the cover for the first time. _The Princess Bride_. He was fairly sure that he’d heard some of his classmates quoting this book before, so he was intrigued to see what the fuss was about.

By the time the first new toy had been broken, Keith was hooked. The book’s sense of humor was so similar to his own, and it was the perfect escape from his own dreary reality.

**5 years, 317 days**

As a twelve-year-old with no soul-tat, Keith continued to be ostracized. He’d been kicked out of one school after another, and shifted from foster home to foster home. The bullying managed to follow him everywhere, though.

The bullies were never obvious about it, but they were consistent. Keith walked the school hallways to the sounds of taunts and hissed snide remarks.

“Poor friendless boy.” “No one likes him – he doesn’t even have a soul-tat!” “I’ve heard that if you don’t have a soul-tat by the time you’re twelve that means that you’re destined to be alone forever.”

“That’s probably why his parents died – even they didn’t want to be around him.”

There was nothing you could do to earn the wrath of an orphan quicker than by bringing up their dead parents. Keith saw red and turned around in a flurry, throwing his fist into the face of the commenter. His target didn’t have a chance to react, but he had a lackey who was paying better attention and punched Keith in retaliation. The blow to his gut only made Keith angrier, and he launched himself at the lackey as well. The lackey landed a few more punches but Keith was proud to notice that he’d bloodied the other guy much more than he felt bloodied himself as they were pulled apart.

Of course, the annoying duo had been from the popular kids group while Keith was a loner so he was blamed for the whole ordeal. He’d had enough experience with this kind of thing in previous schools that he knew arguing would be futile. He simply hunched his shoulders and followed the teacher – he recognized his science teacher, Mr Hedrick – away from the scene. Mark this up as another failed attempt at a school, and he likely would be sent away to a new foster family as well once they heard.

To his surprise, though, Mr Hedrick didn’t take him to the front office. They entered his own office and he gestured to Keith to sit down. Keith was wary, but Mr Hedrick didn’t launch into questions or a lecture like Keith expected. Instead, the teacher leaned down to examine the cuts on Keith’s face and hands before bandaging them up. Keith definitely hadn’t expected that – he could bandage himself up just fine so he wasn’t sure what to do when someone else did that for him.

“Have you ever played soccer?” Mr Hedrick asked after he finished cleaning Keith up.

That definitely wasn’t the first question Keith had expected, so he only blinked in response. Mr Hedrick put away his first aid kit and sat at his desk.

“I’ll take that as a no. Would you like to join my team? We practice here at the school after classes, so you would be welcome to join.”

Keith wasn’t sure why he was offering this, but he was intrigued. He was never invited to join things, he wondered what it would be like.

“Uh, sure,” he responded.

Mr Hedrick smiled. “I’m glad you’re willing to join us – we could use a small, fast player like you. But you need to do something for me.” Keith deflated – there was always a catch. “I need you to stop pretending like you hate my class and actually try to learn something.”

That hadn’t been the catch that Keith expected. “Uh, sure,” he repeated, not really knowing what else to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his science class, he just knew that it wasn’t permanent. Nothing was in his life.

**5 years, 237 days**

At the end of the year, Keith was moved to another new family and this meant that he wouldn’t be going to the same school. On his last day, Mr Hedrick held him back after the final bell.

“I have something for you,” he said, guiding Keith to his office and gesturing for him to sit down once they entered. Mr Hedrick also sat, and Keith wondered what was going to happen. He had come to like Mr Hedrick – he was the only thing Keith would miss about this school.

“Keith, I’m so proud of the progress you made these past few months,” he started. “I can tell how much you’ve been enjoying my class and soccer practices – I want to encourage you to continue to appreciate that passion. If you go through life hating everything then you’ll miss out on the chance to really love something.”

Keith wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that bit of wisdom, so he just nodded.

Mr Hedrick smiled. “And to remind you of that, here – this is for you.” He reached down and pulled a brand new soccer ball out from behind his desk. Keith’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. No one had given him anything just because they wanted to since his parents were alive. He reached out tentatively to grab the present, sure that Mr Hedrick would pull it back and change his mind any second.

That never happened, though, and Keith had the ball in his lap. He couldn’t quite form the words to thank his teacher and coach, but Mr Hedrick seemed to be able to read his face.

“Remember – it’s ok to enjoy things. Practice up over the summer – I don’t want to hear that you’ve been slacking off from your next coach.”

Keith promised that he would, and Mr Hedrick shook his hand with a smile and a “Good luck”. Keith held the ball reverently in his hands as he left the school, only pausing to take it out of the box as he passed a trash can. Once outside, it was a beautiful day so rather than head back to his foster house he walked to the park that had soccer goals set up. He dropped his backpack on the sideline and started running up and down the field with his (!) ball. He enjoyed the feeling of the sun and wind and promptly forgot about his personal problems for a little while.

**5 years, 147 days**

Different school, same routine. Keith joined a soccer team that played all year round and discovered that everyone both on his team and in his classes already had friend groups formed so he was back to his books. He did enjoy seeing the faces his coach and teammates made when he brought book after book to practice for him to read before practice started.

**4 years, 364 days**

His birthday was now past, and not a single person had acknowledged it. Keith decided that he didn’t want friends anymore. He was fine on his own – he had soccer and his books, that was enough.

\---

His coach held him back at the start of practice to let Keith know that he was being shifted to yet another foster family and they were coming to meet him after practice. He sighed and nodded. As long as he could keep playing soccer, he didn’t much care about where he would be going next.

Only 4 years and 76 days until he aged out of the foster system and was finally free…

**Author's Note:**

>  **pro·jec·tion** _noun_  
>  the presentation or promotion of someone or something in a particular way; the transfer of one's own desires or emotions to another person.
> 
> This is definitely not what I was planning to be next for this series, but my depression has been pulling me down hard recently so this is what I wrote.
> 
> I has a [tumblr](http://ayrabelle.tumblr.com/).


End file.
